I’m sitting in the toilet cubicle in the girls’ change rooms, the floor littered with bits of snotty toilet paper, when Kat comes to find me.
‘Tara?’ she calls softly.
‘She can’t talk to you,’ I blurt, my voice thick with tears.
‘Yes she can,’ Kat whispers.
I sniff. ‘You said you were sick of girls coming to you after Ethan.’
‘Because I hate seeing my friends get hurt,’ Kat admits.
I unlock the door. Kat passes me a fresh piece of toilet paper and I mop my streaming nose with it. We sit there for a while together on the cold tiles, lost in our own thoughts.
CHAPTER 11
My days and nights at the Academy move past in an endless blur of classes, practice sessions and time spent with my friends. It didn’t take me long to realise that everyone has their own special set of issues to deal with. Not just Christian, but Sammy and Kat as well. Even Little Miss Perfect – my roommate, Abigail. She almost got us into trouble with the police for shoplifting the other day. What’s that all about? And she seems to be obsessed with her weight, skipping meals and counting calories when she needs every bit of energy for her dancing.
Sammy’s had to fight his father every inch of the way just to be here. His dad would prefer he became a doctor rather than a dancer.
And I couldn’t believe it when I found out Kat’s mother is actually Natasha Willis, my idol. I must have watched every one of her performances on video a hundred times. Natasha’s dancing is technically perfect–so inspiring–and she’s always surrounded by adoring crowds everywhere she goes. But it was only after I spent time with her that I realised she’s not so perfect. All she cares about is herself and her dancing. There’s no room left for anyone else, including her own daughter. Poor Kat. It makes me grateful that my parents always have time for me, no matter how busy they are.
Then there’s Ethan. I still can’t work out what to do about him. I know he’s all wrong for me, but I can’t seem to get him out of my head, playing scenes of our time together in my memory over and over. That first time he took off his T-shirt. Or the night he pulled me out of the water after I jumped off the balcony with Kat and he said my name for the first time. Or the time he held me so closely when he was helping Patrick out in pas de deux class. It was me he chose to dance with that day, out of all the girls in the class. Surely that must mean something.
But after what happened that day at the beach, I can’t be sure of anything. Maybe I have no idea of how to read the signs. I grab the photo of him I’ve been hiding in my jewellery box. I was planning to cut it up–destroy it forever so I wouldn’t sit there staring at it. I need to focus on my dancing. But in the end I couldn’t do it. I buried it in the waste-paper basket instead. Except the photo found its way back to me. That must be fate, surely? So I haven’t given up on the idea of us completely. I know Kat and Sammy aren’t going to be too happy about it, but sometimes the things you commit to aren’t going to please everyone.
I guess things would be better if he didn’t think of me as some ‘kid’ he has to talk to because I’m Kat’s best friend. I even tried to prove to him I was ‘older’ by letting everyone think I was going out with Damien, one of the dancers from the Company, when all the time he was just someone who grew up in the same tiny country town I did. It’s not something I’m proud of–especially when the rumours that started up nearly ruined his career. But it seemed the ‘right’ thing to do at the time.
Now I finally have the chance to make Ethan see I’m what he wants. He’s chosen me to dance in his choreography assessment piece, which he says he created just for me. Me! It’s a chance to spend a whole lot of one-on-one time with him in the studio.
But when I arrive at the studio for the rehearsal, it’s not me he seems to be interested in after all.
‘You must be Tara.’
I smile nervously at the beautiful young woman sitting next to Ethan. This must be Dana, his choreography mentor. ‘Hi.’
‘All warmed up?’ Ethan asks me.
‘Of course,’ I assure him, even though I’m not. Then I stand there like a piece of meat while they discuss his ideas for the dance. It’s the story of a girl who’s not self-conscious about anything when she’s dancing. A girl who’s free. In other words, everything I’m not.
Finally, I get to move through the steps he’s put together. But they’re hard. And awkward. I put everything I have into it, yet I don’t get the feeling that’s he watching me. Every time I catch sight of him in the mirror he’s whispering with Dana. It’s almost like he’s flirting with her.
So I’m relieved when we break for lunch. Now I’ll finally have Ethan to myself. Except instead of complimenting me on how hard I’ve been working on his choreography, all he wants to talk about is Dana – how incredible and talented she is. It’s obvious he hasn’t listened to a word I’ve said.
Ethan’s late to the studio after lunch. I study his face as he drops dejectedly into a chair. He looks … defeated.
‘Do you want me to start?’ I ask him. ‘Or should I wait for Dana?’
Ethan’s top lip curls. ‘Dana and I had artistic differences,’ he tells me. ‘You don’t seem to want to be here either. Don’t worry, I can get another dancer.’
After all my hard work? How dare he dismiss me like that?
‘Wow,’ I say, my voice tight. ‘Has the brilliant Ethan Karamokov been rejected?’
His face says it all.
‘That’s got to hurt,’ I tell him.
‘I never knew you were so sarcastic.’
‘Like you ever took the time to get to know me,’ I snap back. Then I stare at him, puzzled. ‘I don’t understand why you picked me in the first place.’
A soft look comes into Ethan’s eyes. ‘I saw you dancing on the wharf the other day with a ribbon. So free and innocent. You were like–’
‘Like a kid. I got it.’
‘No, you were inspiring.’ Then he shakes his head, as though to clear it. ‘Go, stay. Do whatever you want to do.’
I’m not going to stand around and be insulted. I grab my bag and am about to storm off when I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. Free. Inspiring. I race over to the stereo and turn up the music to full volume, then throw myself into the dance. I’m no longer self-conscious about my dancing, but free – whirling and spinning, just like I used to when I danced in the paddocks on our farm.
Suddenly Ethan is beside me. He picks me up in his arms, holding me close.
‘That was perfect,’ he says, staring into my eyes. ‘Beyond perfect. I knew you could do it.’
I stare back, my heart leaping. He’s going to kiss me. I know he is. I close my eyes, ready for his mouth to meet mine.
Then our teeth knock together and we both pull apart–the magic of the moment suddenly gone.
I’m sitting in the outdoor café with Sammy and Kat, whingeing about our end-of-semester exams, when Ethan strolls over. I casually sip my drink, mentally forcing my heartbeat to slow down to something approximating normal.
Ethan swipes Kat’s half-eaten hamburger from her plate, then pokes my arm. ‘Hey, we still on for rehearsal later?’
‘I don’t think I can today,’ I tell him, doing my best to sound like it’s no big deal to me. ‘Maybe tomorrow?’
‘Whenever,’ Ethan drawls, his hand brushing the back of my neck. ‘Can’t wait.’
I stay calm, focused. I don’t even stare after him when he wanders off.
Kat and Sammy are on my case as soon as he’s out of earshot.
‘What was that?’ Kat asks me, horrified.
‘We’re rehearsing for his choreography exam,’ I explain, cucumber cool.
Kat shakes her head. ‘No, no, no. My brother was in flirt mode.’
‘It’s Ethan,’ I point out, collecting my things together to make a quick getaway. ‘He’s always in flirt mode.’
‘Just not with you,’ Sammy adds.
‘My point precisely,’ Kat says. ‘So come on,
what gives, little one?’
I try to make my escape but it’s no good. They’re already following me. I might as well get it all out in the open.
‘All right!’ I admit. ‘He kissed me, okay?’
Kat stares at me. ‘So let me get this straight. After discussing this obsession you have with my brother in nauseating detail, he pashes you and you just “forget” to mention it?’
‘It wasn’t a pash,’ I point out. ‘It was an almostpash.’
It’s true. Even though Ethan kissing me is something I’ve been fantasising about ever since I met him, when it did finally happen it was totally uncomfortable. Our noses bumped and we pulled apart almost immediately. And to be honest, there’s another factor that’s stopping me from taking the whole thing too seriously. Dana, his choreography mentor. I found out later she’d ‘dumped’ him as her student. That must have really hurt someone with an ego as big as Ethan’s.
I try to explain this to Kat. ‘It only happened after Dana rejected him, so I’m not going to read anything into it.’
Kat smirks. ‘Since when?’
‘Since you always tell me I blow things out of proportion,’ I explain.
Kat rolls her eyes. ‘But you never listen!’
‘It’s part of your charm,’ adds Sammy.
‘Look,’ I tell them. ‘It’s exam week. I’m not going to do anything but focus on my dancing.’ I can tell neither of them believes me.
I’m down at my special place near the harbour–the little park where I danced my heart out that first night during audition week. I can’t believe how many things have happened to me since then.
I crouch down, running my fingers through the cool grass, searching for a four-leaf clover. I could do with some good luck right now.
‘Yes,’ I whisper, as I finally find one. I hold the stem in my hand, twisting the leaf this way and that. Maybe this will change things.
‘There you are.’
I spin round. Ethan’s standing there.
‘Lose something?’ he asks.
I close my fingers quickly over the leaf, hiding it from view. He’ll only think I’m silly and superstitious if he sees me with it.
‘Um, yeah,’ I say. ‘My … my bracelet.’
Ethan offers to help me look for it. I wish I hadn’t fibbed to him now. How are we going to find something that doesn’t exist?
‘Look, I’m not even sure I put it on this morning, so you really don’t have to,’ I babble.
Ethan shakes his head. ‘You’re looking for jewellery you’re not sure you put on?’
I decide to come clean. ‘Okay,’ I sigh, opening my fist to show him what’s inside. ‘I have this superstition thing about four-leaf clovers. I try to pick one before every exam.’
Ethan takes the cloverleaf from me, checking to see it’s not a fake. A look of wonderment crosses his face. ‘How did you do that? I’ve never even seen one before.’
I shrug. ‘It’s like my one talent. I don’t know, apparently the leprechauns smile at me or something.’
A shaft of sunlight filters through the trees, making little golden patches at our feet. Ethan smiles at me, and for a moment, time seems to stand perfectly still.
‘Socks,’ he says suddenly.
‘Pardon?’
He grins. ‘I don’t change them during exam week. Superstition.’
‘Really?’ I say, pulling a face. ‘That’s …’
‘Gross. I know.’
We stare at each other for a long moment, the sun in our hair. He leans in towards me, his eyes intense. ‘You have a bit of dirt on your …’
His finger gently dabs at the side of my nose, and before I know it, he’s moving closer, about to kiss me again. I close my eyes, my lips tingling.
Then I pull away at the last moment. ‘I just remembered I have some stuff to do,’ I say.
He stares at me, confused.
‘So I’ll, ah, see you later,’ I say, scrambling up the hill, nearly tripping over my feet in my hurry to get away.
CHAPTER 12
I don’t really understand how kissing got to be such a big deal. Everywhere I look these days, people seem to be kissing. In the park. On the street. In our common room, like the couple perched on the edge of the sofa across the room from me right now. I try not to watch them but I can’t help myself. It’s all new territory to me.
Sheep don’t kiss. I want to know how humans decided that’s what you do when you like someone. When you think about it, it’s a weird sucking motion. With unnatural tongue etiquette, I notice. I quickly bury my face in my dance magazine again, before Bonnie and Sean catch me watching them.
Kat and Christian burst into the room, babbling something about a skateboard stack. I jump up and grab Kat’s hands.
‘Kat, I need to talk to you,’ I say.
‘Sure,’ Kat says.
‘In private?’ I beg, looking at Christian.
He rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he jokes. ‘Cos I really want to be around for that.’
I pull Kat over to a more private part of the common room. ‘So there was another “almost” incident,’ I tell her.
Kat’s eyes blaze. ‘I’ll kill him.’
‘No, don’t. I wanted him to kiss me. I think.’
Kat shrugs. ‘Okay, well you know how I feel about it but I’m not going to stand in your way.’
I take a deep breath. ‘Good. That’s good. Because … um … what if I said I needed your help.’
I lean forward and whisper my request in her ear.
Kat sits cross-legged on the end of my bed, unable to believe what I’ve just told her.
‘Never? Is that even possible?’
I nod sheepishly. ‘It’s hopeless, right? People expect you to be a bad kisser at twelve, but by almost sixteen …’
Kat crinkles her nose. ‘No, you don’t know you’re going to be “bad” if you haven’t done it before. Just less experienced.’
‘Oh, I’ll suck,’ I assure her, depressed now. ‘I’ll get all up in my head, like in technique class, and then I’ll probably bite him or something.’
Kat looks horrified. ‘Wow. Okay, teeth away, for starters.’ Her eyes widen as an idea occurs to her. ‘We’ll treat it like technique class! Break down the movement.’
She jumps off the bed and grabs my old teddy from my bookshelf.
‘Meet your new pas de deux partner,’ she announces, handing him to me.
‘His name is Sir Joshua and I’m really not comfortable corrupting him.’
Kat grins. ‘He’s mad for it. Trust me.’
Kat paces around the room, beating time with a ruler like she’s Miss Raine conducting class.
‘And one, two, three and four … a little bit of tongue … and five, six …’
I pull back from Sir Joshua’s black-buttoned face, spitting fur out of my mouth. ‘This isn’t working,’
I whine.
Kat drops her arm. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t know where to put my nose. Or how to breathe at the same time. And I’ve got fur in my mouth,’ I add, pulling a few strands out from between my teeth.
Kat holds up her hand. ‘Okay, I get it. Sir Joshua’s not giving you a lot back, am I right?’
I nod, defeated. How does she think up these crazy ideas?
Sammy sticks his head inside the door. ‘Anyone seen Abigail?’ he asks.
We shake our heads.
‘I’m really worried about her. She hasn’t eaten anything for days and I’m scared she won’t make it through her exam tomorrow.’
‘Abigail’s a big girl,’ Kat tells him. ‘I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.’
She gives me a wink then pats the bed. ‘Come in and join us, why don’t you?’
Two minutes later, Sir Joshua has been banished to the bookshelf and Sammy’s sitting in his place on the bed beside me. Only for some reason, he doesn’t seem too keen to take part in Kat’s evil plan.
‘No way,’ he says, crossing his arms ag
ainst his chest.
Kat glares at him. ‘I’m shocked you could be so selfish, Samuel.’
Sammy pulls a face. ‘It’d be like kissing my sister.’
‘But you’re an expert. We’ve seen you in action,’ Kat pleads, reminding him of the time his girlfriend, Mia, came to visit. We had to practically prise them apart at one point.
‘I have been told I’m quite talented,’ he agrees, but he still doesn’t look convinced.
‘One of your best friends is floundering here,’ Kat says, waving her arms dramatically in the air.
I nod. ‘She’s right. I’m desperate,’ I tell him quietly.
Sammy crumbles. ‘Okay,’ he finally concedes. ‘I’ll do it.’ He holds up a hand in warning. ‘But this is wrong.’
I sit down gingerly on the bed beside him. ‘Oh, agreed. Very wrong.’
But something I have to get through, I realise.
Kat’s playing choreographer now, pushing us closer together on the bed until our knees touch.
‘Now lean in,’ she instructs.
Sammy and I grin shyly at each other. We slowly move our faces towards each other. Closer … closer …
Then I pull back, giggling. ‘I can’t do this.’
Sammy becomes Mr Serious. ‘Should we have a rule? Like no tongues.’
Kat shakes her head. ‘No! Because then it’s not a proper practice. Now, focus, okay? On three. One, two … ‘
We try again. This time it works better. I focus on Sammy’s lips, the texture and shape of them. I’m leaning in, about to make contact, when something behind Sammy’s head catches my eye.
The door’s partly open, revealing someone standing outside in the corridor, looking in.
Ethan.
He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes stony.
Then he’s gone.
Next morning I dress carefully in my practice tutu, my hair immaculately styled in a tight bun. The perfect ballerina. Every little detail counts when you’re doing a dance exam.
If only I didn’t feel so dead inside.
Dance Academy Learning to Fly Page 5